


all i can think of

by theafterimages



Series: frat au [19]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Denial, Dream Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: Jackson has an epiphany.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raindropcakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropcakes/gifts).



> I wrote this for my most precious K for her birthday... last year, I think? I didn't post it because I wasn't sure if this was exactly how this particular event happened or not. I'm still not. But I'm going to get back to posting things for Markson's frat au storyline soon, and I thought this might be a good place to start. I hope you all like it!

Jackson moves faster, desperate, his head dropping back against Mark’s shoulder. He’s far past being aware of anything but Mark so thick and perfect inside him; of the jolt through his system every time Mark’s cock presses against Jackson’s prostate; of the way Mark’s arms are tight around him and he’s whimpering, his mouth pressed against Jackson’s neck, breath panting hot against Jackson’s sweat-slick skin. Jackson needs, he _wants_ —

Then Mark starts shaking Jackson’s thigh and saying Jackson’s name over and over again. Weird, but Jackson goes with it, and is so close to finally coming when:

“Jackson, come _on_ already.”

Jackson abruptly snaps awake. He’s in the megabed, his phone alarm blaring in the background. Mark really is shaking Jackson’s thigh, his sleepy whines being breathed out against Jackson’s neck. None of that had been a dream; nor, unfortunately, had the way Jackson’s cock is throbbing, so close to the edge that Jackson knows only a few quick strokes would send him over.

“Dude, either get up or sleep, just turn it _off_ ,” Mark complains, his sleep-hoarse voice interrupting Jackson’s hazy thoughts. Mark. _Mark_.

Jackson startles and grabs his phone, turning the alarm off, then hastily forces himself out of bed. He risks a quick glance back, breathing a sigh of relief as he watches Mark roll back over, his breathing evening out. If he’s asleep again that fast, there’s no way he was ever really awake enough to tell anything about what was going on with Jackson. 

The suite’s bathroom is empty, luckily, and Jackson locks both doors behind him. It’s not the first morning he’s spent like this, especially since the whole megabed arrangement started. It’s just from being so close to someone, probably. Totally normal.

He debates a cold shower and waiting it out, but judging by the glimpse of the clock on his phone he managed to get he doesn’t have time for that. As soon as he ducks under the hot spray of the shower he unceremoniously takes himself in hand, giving a few quick, firm tugs.

Jackson’s thoughts go right back to Mark, not like he can control them right now. He’s felt Mark hard against his ass or thigh on enough mornings—it’s not weird, no, there’s nothing weird about it, nobody can control these things, dicks will be dicks, _totally normal_ —to know he doesn’t have the porn star cock Jackson was dreaming about, but it’d do the job. Real Mark probably wouldn’t make Jackson wait for his touch, either, or if he would he’d make up for it afterward, wrap himself tight around Jackson and smile, and he’d be happy and warm and all Jackson’s—

It can’t mean anything that that’s when Jackson’s orgasm slams through him, Jackson insists to himself afterwards, his legs still shaking a little. And it definitely can’t mean anything that it’s the hardest he’s come in weeks.

Once Jackson’s recovered he hurries through the rest of his shower, dressing quickly. Once he grabs his things and pads back into his room, his gaze goes straight to Mark in spite of himself. Mark’s rolled over into the space Jackson had vacated, his bare arms wrapped around Jackson’s pillow. 

It’s not the first time Jackson’s seen him do that, or the first time his whole chest has filled with warmth at the sight. It’s not even the first time he’s wanted to crawl back into bed and cuddle Mark until they’re both ready to face the day. But it’s the first time all his defenses have been down, layers of denial stripped away; the first time he hasn’t been able to shove aside the thoughts of crawling into bed and kissing Mark awake, working him up until Mark’s panting for it and Jackson can ride him, just like in the dream but even better because it’d be _real_.

The first time Jackson can’t even begin to hide from the fact that what he feels for Mark is so far beyond friendship, and that it has been for a long time.

Jackson scrubs a hand through his still-damp hair. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says with feeling.


End file.
